Blueberry Lemon Chocolate Cake
by Skipper1318
Summary: Chell hasn't heard much from Aperture since she had escaped. But on the anniversary of it, a letter from there comes in, saying that Aperture needs her help, but what for? What does the AI have in store for her this time? Will she ever return back to the life she had constructed for herself?


It's been a year, a year since she left Aperture. A full 365 days. It felt unrealistic, so very much. It felt even more since the massive AI, messaged through mail, and had called a truce. Fairly out of character of GLaDOS, but she probably didn't want to get murdered again. Chell had agreed, and that was the last she had heard from Aperture.

Chell stepped out onto her well-manicured lawn in front of her white house. The grass was an almost fluorescent green, and reflected the morning sun's light into her eyes. Chell, wearing a white tank top and jeans, blocked her eyes from the harsh light before continuing her journey, destination mailbox. She liked checking early in the morning, her mind being more optimistic then. So she walked up to the white mailbox, wet grass squelching underneath her suede-clad feet. The little stark blood red flag was up, declaring that she had something in there, important or not, it stayed up. So, she opened up the little lid with a rusty squeak and reached inside and grabbed a handful of the printed papers. She drew it out, and gave it a good look over.

Top one was junk, not surprising, advertising about wrinkle-cream. Ew. She put the letter in the back and checked the next. Junk. Next was junk, and the next. Paycheck, good.

As she shuffled through the letters, her mind went into autopilot and a thought came to her mind. Maybe she should visit GLaDOS. That was almost immediately shot down, but some small part of it rethought it over. She probably wouldn't want to see her back. She sang a whole song about getting rid of her. Besides, the large supercomputer had only followed her word the once, so the truce may not hold. Besides the fact she was basically getting rid of a danger to her facility.

Also, she didn't know how the place could affect her emotionally. She had only just gotten over the random bursts of adrenaline that she felt when she saw something that reminded her of there. One time she had tipped over a whole rack of toilet paper rolls because she could have sworn it was a turret. Not to mention children, apples, lemons, fire… Not to mention the fact that she had constant nightmare flashbacks of the whole incident, and still had them

She definitely didn't want to have those back.

Junk, junk, junk, letter, junk…

Wait, letter?

She went back through her pile of mail in her hand until she got to the specific envelope, yellowed instead of the usual stark white. It was emblazoned in the corner with the signature black Aperture insignia, she noted with slight suspicion. The sent address was hers, so it wasn't just an accidental send. The return address was replaced with the Aperture insignia, and the stamp was a bird with the three wiggly lines through it.

The envelope smelled musty and faintly of iron, like Old Aperture. It was probably where the envelope came from since Modern Aperture was completely electronically-based.

Chell felt as if the rest of the neighborhood was watching her every move as she stared down at the envelope from that place she would rather put behind her. Why did she want to return again to visit that AI? She was going insane, probably gained Stockholm syndrome. But now this was replaced by a nauseous feeling as bile rose up her throat.

She decided she needed a seat, and quickly shut the mailbox and dropped the rest of the letters, not waiting for them to hit the ground. She tried to keep from running so not to arouse suspicion, but her walk ended up brisk and urgent. Her breath was coming in hitches as she walked up the familiar paved driveway and to the bright blue chipped wooden door. She quickly opened it, walked in, and then kicked it closed with her foot. She started opening it with shaking hands as she walked and sat onto her favorite worn dark chair. She ripped the letter from the bowls from the envelope, and opened it up.

Dear [SUBJECT NAME HERE],

If you have received this letter, than Aperture Science is in some form of great danger. Possibly mantis men, mutated spiders, zombies, etcetera. Anyway, since you have received this letter, you must be a trusted part of this corporation, or used to be. If you happen to be dead and receive this, please disregard it completely. We do not yet have the money to start our future research into ghosts and zombies, so your presence is not needed and not welcome. Besides the fact that all the crybabies that make up the office staff would quit if any hauntings or zombie attacks started up. Report ASAP to Aperture Science for the future could be in jeopardy.

There was a signature, and printed below with some lettering before the name in dark red as if a sudden edit was

**FORMER** CEO of Aperture Science,

Cave Johnson

Chell stared at the letter in confusion. All of her worry for something that was made years ago? She had no idea how the mailing service worked, but she had doubts that GLaDOS would send this out. Maybe one of the bots accidently sent it?

Or she was too busy to actually write a letter because she was actually dealing with a threat.

Well, the decision to go back had been made for her, and she now regretted wanting to go in the first place. She could just not go…

But what if this threat escaped from Aperture? The fate of the whole world was a bit more important than her. She would definitely feel at fault if the world ended because of her own negligence.

So with a reluctant sigh and sense of dread rising from her stomach, she slowly let the chair relinquish its hold upon her as she stood on shaky legs. The former test subject slowly looked about the room, realizing that she may never see it again. May never sit in the old chair or see the familiar blank walls.

She slowly walked into her room, breathing in its familiar scent as she opened up the wooden closet near the doorway. IF she was returning, she would need the right equipment.

It didn't take long to find, the contents of the closet little and the fabric's color definitely helped.

It was her old orange jumpsuit, the Aperture insignia emblazoned on the chest. It had definitely gone through some wear and tear. Burns from turret bullets almost missed and holes from when they hit that had light red staining no matter how much she scrubbed at it. The knees were darkened from the constant sliding about and some small splatters of white, orange and blue that had refused to come out. A little bit below the knee it was completely clean from being tucked into the long fall boots, a brilliant stark orange.

She pulled out the white Aperture tank top, which had suffered less than the jumpsuit, but still had its wear and tear.

She took off her old clothes quickly, and then slipped on the old familiar ones that seemed to fit her just right. It was strange to be back in them again, and she had a faint feeling of nostalgia. She crouched low and reached back into the closet's interior. She latched onto the metallic object and pulled it out.

They were the long fall boots, which had cleaned off a lot better than the rest of the clothes. A sterile white like it was new. The heel string though was bent from the constant use it had gone through, but as she slipped them on and tightened them, worked fine.

Chell stood on her feet, and took an experimental walk around the room to get used to the boots again. It was like riding a bike, and it only took a little bit until she was used to them again.

With a slight nod, she looked to the Companion Cube and considered bringing it. It was a great ally, but it would probably slow her down, especially since it was heavy to carry without the ASPHD helping.

But since she didn't have the gun, she would need more defenses, which the cube could help with.

With a little bit more deliberating, Chell decided to leave the cube there.

She slowly walked back to her door, checking her surroundings again as she again realized she may never come back. With her heart a heavy chunk in her throat and with a sense of finality, she stepped out of the worn door, letter tightly clutched in hand. She pulled it close, and pulling a key from the planter, locked it. She placed the key back in a deliberate fashion, and then turned around. She put her head up high, and started the long walk back to the place she swore she would never return to again, hoping that she would return back to her tranquil little home soon.

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**A/N: This is a 4 chapter story that has already been typed all the way out. Updates every Saturday, and may at some point have an Epilogue. Constructive-Criticism is much appreciated as it can help this author become better. Please Enjoy!**

**Also, I made the cover photo, please no stealing.**


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